“Severus cares for all of his students, even if that care translates into doing things to keep them safe in secret, or helping them have someone to go to when the dark begins making requests of them,” Flitwick interrupts.

Around him, the other heads of houses are nodding or smiling in agreement.  

“He seems frightening, because he must, in order to be someone that his Slytherins, or those who might be likely to go dark, can trust,” Flitwick explains.  “It doesn’t mean that we always approve of his methods though.”

Harry watches in fascination as Snape rolls his eyes at his colleague’s statement.

“No child should be left with the choice between choosing the dark or being cast out on the streets,” Snape responds.   

I wish I had been sorted into Slytherin after all.  I wish that I had already known that Snape was safe to go to.  I could have asked him instead of Dumbles.

A sudden stray thought hits him and he frowns.  He barely notices that he’s twisting his fingers again until a large hand suddenly appears atop his own.

“What is it?”  His professor asks.

His attention narrows down to only the hand on his own and the face in front of him, briefly forgetting the others sitting around them.

“Are you--,” He coughs to avoid the wave of emotion that is threatening to break out from him.  

No adult has ever touched him so gently; at least, none that knew the entire truth about him.